


What matters

by EnlacingLines



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, British Christmas, Christmas Party, Cute, Drunk Keith (Voltron), Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Marriage Proposal, POV Lance (Voltron), yes I know I'm writing about Christmas in August
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 13:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20390557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnlacingLines/pseuds/EnlacingLines
Summary: “What is that?” he therefore asks, and Keith suddenly jumps back, eyes wide.“Shit, wait hold on,” he says, and then, with a surprising amount of fluidity considering his drunken state so far, he drops softly to his knees.Or one knee, to be exact.





	What matters

**Author's Note:**

> I had a craving for some cute Klance, so this short and sweet thing occurred. And seeing as no one on Twitter seemed to mind yet another proposal fic, here we are! 
> 
> (yes, I am aware it is the height of summer and I'm writing about Christmas, I'm living my best life)
> 
> Huge thank you to my wonderful betas, Interstelklance and Valania! You guys are wonderful <3 and the KWS group, my heart belongs to you all. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Lance is only half asleep when the door crashes open, his senses already poised to react at noise. It’s hard for him to truly sleep when he knows he’ll most likely get woken up when Keith returns home, yet the abrupt and dramatic sound that accompanies his boyfriend’s entrance jolts him upright. 

He blinks the haze from his eyes and mind for a moment, and as he does, twin bangs acho from the hallway, followed by a stream of cursing in a familiar voice. Lance swivels round and catches sight of the clock on the bedside table. 1.36AM. 

He groans quietly, thankful it’s a Friday, and throws back the covers regrettably to stand, shivering as the December air hits his skin. He pads to the door and out, tracing steps towards the entrance way.

There, propped up against the wall, is Keith. His head bowed, jacket hanging haphazardly off one shoulder, and Lance almost trips over one of his boots in the dim light, the other overturned by the door. Which explains the two loud thumps he’d heard. 

As soon as Lance walks over, Keith’s head snaps up and his face instantly morphs into a lopsided, sweet smile. Lance snorts. 

“Hey, ho-omf!” Lance says as suddenly Keith launches himself into his arms, Lance staggering under the unexpected weight. 

Keith giggles, actually giggles into his ear and his feet slip from beneath him, causing Lance to stagger more. As they right themselves, Lance pulls back and before he can react further, Keith kisses him. He almost misses his mouth in enthusiasm, and Lance ends up flat against the wall, neither able to stay upright. 

Proving that, as Lance has begun to expect, Keith is extremely drunk. 

Not abnormal, seeing as tonight was his work Christmas party, but Lance is thrown off by just how inebriated he is - it’s not like Keith to get so thrown by alcohol. 

The kiss breaks after just a moment, and Keith rests his forehead in the crook of Lance’s neck before sighing deeply. 

“I am drunk,” he proclaims, and Lance stifles a laugh. 

“I can see that, buddy. Come on, let’s get you some water,” he says, gently encouraging Keith to back away, jacket falling to the floor as he moves. 

Keith turns and looks at it with a frown, as if he can’t remember what it is or why it’s on the floor. Lance sighs and tugs at his fingers, Keith instantly brightening at the touch. Lance leads them through their apartment and into the kitchen, deciding to make sure his boyfriend is okay and hydrated before he goes back to pick up his clothes. 

Keith winces as Lance switches on the light in the kitchen, and he apologises with a kiss to his temple. 

“Sit down, I’ll bring you some water. Do you want anything to eat?” he says, guiding Keith to their kitchen table. 

“Nooo, I ate all the foods at British Christmas,” Keith says, sliding into his seat with only a small wobble. 

Lance snorts. “British Christmas?” he asks as he grabs a glass and fills it.

“Yeah, Allura and Coran did Christmas but...Britished it,” Keith says, flinging his hands around in a gesture that Lance knows is more his than Keith’s. 

He bites his lip against a smile, heartbeat rocketing up a few notches. He loves when that happens, the nuances of their personalities combining into one another, sharing parts of themselves. 

“They had a goose. Weird. And Coran kept giving me port - port is goood.” Keith says as Lance slides the glass over to him, taking a long sip. 

Lance is just about to ask how much port Keith has consumed when suddenly he bangs the glass back on the table, water sloshing up and over the sides. 

“Crackers!” he says, and Lance flinches a little at the overly loud tone. 

“Err, what are you talking about, babe?” Lance asks as Keith suddenly starts tapping at his jeans and turning around as if looking for something. 

“Crackers, they‘re these paper things that are all shiny and shit. Kinda pretty, actually,” Keith says, pausing a little and smiling over at Lance, which makes him hide his own smile in his hand. 

“Okay, so pretty paper things,” Lance says and Keith stands and starts searching through the pockets of his jeans. 

“Yeah, and then you pull them, and they go-” 

“Crack?” Lance cannot help but ask with a smirk as he walks over to where Keith is standing, who looks up, and catches him dead in the eye, a serious look on his face. 

“It goes bang,” he deadpans, and then starts fishing in his pocket again. 

Lance is both amused and a little concerned at a paper contraption that goes bang as part of Christmas dinner, but refrains from speaking when Keith suddenly lets out a sound of triumph as he pulls something small from his pocket. 

Sighing, Lance grabs the glass of water and offers it to him. 

“Babe, drink this and let's go back to bed, it’s late,” he says, and although his boyfriend is kind of adorable, it is the middle of the night, and Lance can feel sleep pressing down on his mind with every second. 

“No no, this first,” Keith says, batting Lance’s hand away. 

Lance rolls his eyes and tries not to let his frustration show. He really does want to go back to bed, but knows that Keith is stubborn at the best of times, and right now there’s no reasoning with him.

“Okay babe, but then can we sleep, please?” he says, and Keith nods, face once again far too serious for the situation. So Lance turns and places the glass carefully back on the table. 

When he faces Keith again, his eyes meet a strange piece of small plastic that’s being thrust toward him. It’s clutched between Keith’s thumb and forefinger, and so small it’s difficult for Lance to really make out what it is. 

“What is that?” he therefore asks, and Keith suddenly jumps back, eyes wide. 

“Shit, wait hold on,” he says, and then, with a surprising amount of fluidity considering his drunken state so far, he drops softly to his knees. 

Or one knee, to be exact. 

It takes Lance’s tired brain a moment to process what’s occurring, but when it does, his world narrows, his mouth goes dry and falls open as he stares at Keith - who is now offering up the tiny object. It’s a crude, red plastic ring with tiny ball on the top, mimicking a classic engagement ring. 

“I got this in the cracker thing, and it’s red which is our colour and it’s so cute and small I really liked it, and I’ve been wanting to propose to you anyway, so I knew it was a sign,” Keith says, in what Lance can only describe as a proud tone. 

Lance looks from the ring to his face. It’s bright, flushed and ever so hopeful, Keith’s dark hair falling out of the bun it had been so perfectly tied into when he left hours ago. And Lance loves him so irrevocably in this moment, more than he could possibly describe in language or sentiment.

Spending the rest of his life married to Keith would be fantasy made reality, and Lance feels his smile breaking wildly free as he falls to his knees and cups Keith’s outstretched hand in both of his. 

“Keith, babe, I love you so much, but you are proposing to me with a plastic ring I think is a kids toy while drunk,” he says, slowly, laughing a little at the ridiculousness. 

Keith’s face falls. “You don’t like it?” he says, voice ever so quiet. 

Lance drops his head to their joined hands, in complete disbelief he’s having this conversation, and unable to resist his boyfriend when he’s so pouty. He inhales once then looks up. 

“Can I see?” he says. He almost adds ‘the ring’ but he’s not sure he can do that to himself. 

Keith obliges with a nod, placing the ring in the palm of Lance’s hand. Lance was right in his assessment, it’s so very small and looks as if he could snap it in half by just bending it. 

But the whole thing is so entirely adorable and crazily impulsive that he looks back at Keith fondly. 

“You’re gonna wake up and regret this so much,” he says, but Keith shakes his head and pulls Lance towards him. Lance goes with a yelp, Keith’s strength shining through as he’s folded into his arms, only just managing to hang onto the plastic ring. 

“I’d never regret asking you to marry me, Lance. I love you,” he says, and then they’re kissing. 

Lance sinks into it with a slightly reluctant air, not bothering to explain what he truly meant. After all, there doesn’t seem much point when Keith is in this state.

He’ll try again in the morning. 

* * *

Lance sits at the coffee table, book in hand with the plastic (and quite frankly ugly) ring on the first knuckle of his fourth finger. It’s so small he can’t get it down any further, so there it stays.

The shower stopped running almost ten minutes ago. Not long now to wait. 

He’s been up for over an hour while Keith slept off some of his hangover, giving him plenty of time to think and prepare. 

Lance isn’t sure how this conversation will go. They’ve been dating almost five years, since their early twenties, living together for two years. A future together is something he’s wanted for so long, and they’ve been making plans and steps towards it 

Yet proposing to someone while drunk is...not ideal. So he isn’t sure how Keith is going to take it. And while Lance is nervous, in the back of his mind he knows whatever happens, they‘ll be okay. They’ve been through enough for him to be secure, so although this is somewhat nerve wracking, he can’t help but get ready to tease Keith just a bit. 

He doesn’t have long to wait to see what will happen, for abruptly he hears the tell tale steps of Keith making his way to the kitchen. So he poses with his hand holding the book far away, ring as obvious as he can make it. 

It works - because no sooner do the sound of footsteps reach him, he hears sharp inhale. Lance looks over the top of his book, to meet his boyfriend’s horror-struck gaze. 

“I...didn’t dream that,” Keith manages, sounding as if he’s choking on the words. 

Lance slowly puts the book down, unable to keep a smirk from his face. 

“If you mean proposing to me with a child's plastic ring you got from a cracker at a Christmas party, then no babe, you did not.” 

Keith’s mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens once more. Then he drops his face into his hands with a groan. Lance chuckles and stands, moving over to wrap his arms around him, Keith immediately mirroring the action. 

“It’s okay,” Lance says, but Keith breaks away abruptly, face flushed, an aggrieved look on his features. 

“It’s not, Lance! That’s not how you deserve to be proposed to!” he says in utter frustration, throwing his hands up into his hair and walking away. 

Lance watches his back filled with tension, his heartbeat thudding in his ears because that must mean-

“So how do I deserve to be proposed to?” 

Keith freezes, ever more tension coursing through, but his hands do fall from his hair. Lance watches as he inhales, frame a little shaky. 

“On the beach near where you grew up. At sunset, after I’ve taken you to the restaurant we went to for our first date, on our anniversary,” Keith says, his quiet voice still managing to echo through the room. 

Lance makes a choking sound, room blurring. For their anniversary is only a couple of months away, and the detail is so precise, it is more than just a fleeting answer. As the realisation hits, even through his obscured vision, he sees Keith spin around to face him. 

“So you really had been thinking about it,” Lance says, throat thick and Keith marches forward to cup his cheeks gently. 

“Yes. I love you, and I want nothing more than a future together. So I’d love to marry you,” he says, tipping forward so their foreheads touch. 

Lance laughs, pure elation in the tone. “I love you too, Keith. I can’t wait to marry you,” he says, then pulls back to wiggle his ringed finger at him. 

Keith groans and backs up, shaking his head, the frown still in place. 

“No, Lance that’s not-” 

“Keith,” Lance says, bridging the gap and placing his hands on Keith’s shoulders so he can fully stare into his eyes. 

“It’s not about the place or the time. It’s about how we love each other, about wanting to take this step. It doesn’t matter if it’s on a beach at sunset or in our apartment at 2AM. I want to marry you and you want to marry me. That's what matters,” he says firmly. 

There’s a beat, then Keith launches himself forward into a crashing, clashing kiss. Lance feels his adrenaline soar, hands twisting into Keith’s hair and smiling all the while because they are _ engaged _. It’s happening, this is real. He ends up laughing so hard they‘re forced apart, still clinging onto one another with giddy smiles all around. 

“You need an actual ring though,” Keith mutters, taking up Lance’s hand and glaring holes at the tiny thing barely balancing on his finger. 

“Nooo, you not taking away the reminder of the best night of my life!” Lance says with an exaggerated wink and Keith rolls his eyes. 

“I’ll never live this down,” he says, but continues looking at Lance’s hand in his. After a moment he lifts it up and draws it closer, inspecting the toy closely. 

“Perhaps you could encase it something...so you have an actual ring around it. If you’re serious about keeping it,” Keith adds, looking to Lance with a smile. 

And Lance returns it with a nod, the pulls Keith forward for another kiss. It may not be the traditional proposal, but it’s theirs. And that, to Lance, is what matters.   


**Author's Note:**

> One day I'll write a wedding. One day...
> 
> Feedback is welcome and appreciated!
> 
> Come find me on on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/EnlacingL/), [Tumblr](http://enlacinglineswrites.tumblr.com) and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/enlacinglines/).


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